Falling Down
by misslucy21
Summary: Fall down seven times, get up eight: Japanese Proverb
1. Chapter 1

Falling Down

Disclaimer: I own nothing connected with CSI:M. If you recognize it from your teleivision set, it's not mine. If you don't recognize it from TV, it is mine.

Order of Operations: Blind Memory, The Edge of Darkness, All These Things, Thrill of Hope, Engraved Invitations, Making Reservations.

* * *

Do you eat, sleep, do you breathe me anymore?  
Do you sleep, do you count sheep anymore?   
Do you sleep anymore?

"Do You Sleep," Lisa Loeb

* * *

"Lord, what a day," Calleigh said as she walked into the house.

"Bad day?" Tim asked from where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back against the couch, doing homework on the coffee table.

"You look like you're about 14 when you do your homework like that," Calleigh said, smiling. She walked over and kissed the top of his head as she sat down. "No, it wasn't really bad. Just very long. Court took forever, and I never got back to the lab until about 4:30, so I had to cram an entire day's worth of work into about four hours. Have you eaten dinner?"

"Yeah, sorry. I got hungry around 7, and you said you'd be late," he said, leaning his head back against the couch to look at her.

"No, not a problem. I'll scrounge something up in a minute, unless you left me leftovers?" she asked.

"Of course," he said. "They're in the blue Tupperware in the fridge. Pasta."

"Mmm, yummy," she said. "Have you been doing homework all day? No, wait, it looks cleaner in here, somehow. What the hell am I saying?" she laughed. "Lord, I can tell when it's cleaner in here. I must be going crazy," she teased.

"Humph," he said, but he was smiling. "Yes, I cleaned house. And did homework. And saw Andy. So, uh, I don't think I'm going to be going to bed tonight."

"What?" she asked, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"Well, he took me off the sleeping pills. So I'm probably not going to be able to sleep tonight. Or tomorrow," he explained, watching her expression shift from confusion to concern. "Cal, it's ok, really. It's rebound insomnia, it happens. Andy thinks I'll be fine after the first couple of days."

"Yeah, but you won't get any sleep," she said. "I know how you get when the insomnia hits."

"It's really ok, Calleigh," he assured her. "I've done this before. It'll be fine. Don't worry so much."

She snorted. "Right. And what happens when you're still not sleeping after three days?"

He shrugged. "Cross that bridge when we get there, I guess. I don't think that's going to happen. I think it'll be fine. I _did_ sleep before all this. I slept more than not, most of the time. Just not for quite so long as most people."

"What's 'not so long as most people' mean?" she asked, warily.

He sighed. "Somewhere between 4 to 6 hours."

"Tim!" she said. "That's not enough sleep!"

"It is for me," he said. "Really. That was normal for probably nearly 20 years."

"No wonder you get so much done," she said. "You've got all these extra hours to fill."

"I guess," he shrugged. "But, well, you sleep more than me."

"There's a switch," she sighed. "We'll figure something out."

"I just don't want _you_ losing sleep because of me," he said.

"Too late," she said, ruffling his hair.

He stuck his tongue out at her. "Go eat, will you?"

"Yes, sir," she said, smiling. "I'm going to change and all first."

"Fine," he said, turning back to his homework.

Calleigh reentered the room a little while later, looking much more comfortable. She sat back down on the couch with her bowl of pasta. "So, do you want me to stay up with you?"

"No, of course not," he said, looking up at her. "You need to sleep. No sense in us both being tired."

"Tim, part of being a partner means you share stuff like this," she sighed. He'd come a good long way in the past four months in terms of figuring out how to be in a relationship, but every so often, she still had to remind him he wasn't alone anymore.

"I know. But you don't need to share my insomnia. That wouldn't be good for you," he said.

"All right," she said, resignedly. "Will you at least come to bed for a little while?"

"I don't think what you have in mind is going to work, but you're welcome to try," he said, smirking at her.

"Hush, you," she said, swatting his shoulder. "I wasn't thinking of doing anything. _I'm_ too tired, even if you aren't. No, I just didn't want to fall asleep alone. It's nicer when you're there."

"Then I'll come to bed with you until you fall asleep. But I probably won't stay unless I get sleepy. It's worse to just lie there," he said.

"Understandable," Calleigh said. She put the bowl on the coffee table and stretched. "Want to put a movie in?"

"Sure," he said, standing up and walking over to the cabinet that held the DVDs. "Any requests?"

"Something fun," she said, stretching out on the couch.

"Ok," he said. He frowned at the movies, trying to find on they both would like. "Hmm. _The Big Lebowski_?" he asked.

"Sure," she said, nodding.

"Allrighty then," he said. He popped in the movie and went back and sat down on the couch with her feet in his lap.

The next thing Calleigh knew, Tim was shaking her gently. "Hey, you should go to bed," he said.

"Mmm?" she said, blearily.

"Come on, up you go," he said, tugging her to her feet. He walked her into the bedroom and tucked her in.

"No, stay," she said, catching his hand.

"Ok, for a little while," he said, lying down next to her. She snuggled into him, hoping to lure him into sleep with her, but she drifted off completely before she knew whether she was successful.

The next morning, she found that she hadn't been. Or at least not entirely. She sighed as she found herself alone in the bed without even a cat for company. "Well, then," she muttered as she climbed out of bed and went to investigate Tim's whereabouts.

She found him in the kitchen, working the Sudoku puzzle from the morning paper while he kept an eye on a skillet. "Are you cooking me breakfast?" she asked.

He smiled at her as he looked up. She studied him critically. He needed a shave, as usual, but didn't seem otherwise too worse for wear. "Figured it was only fair. I don't guess you really got a good sleep, since you were worried, so I thought a good breakfast might help."

"It might," she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee as he bent down to take something out of the oven. She sat down at the table, and he brought her a plate a moment later. "Wait, are these…these are the apple pancakes!" she said. "Your dad's recipe?"

"Of course," he said, shrugging as he poured syrup over his plate.

"I didn't know you knew how to make these," she said.

"Well, I've got to keep some secrets to surprise you with," he said, shrugging. "It would get really boring around here pretty quickly otherwise."

She smiled. "I think even if I was with you for a hundred years, I still wouldn't know all your secrets."

He looked down at his plate with a strange expression. She bit her lip. She'd meant it fondly, but apparently he hadn't taken it quite that way. "Thank you for the pancakes," she said, after a moment, hoping to smooth over whatever was running through his head.

"You're welcome," he said, giving her one of the smiles she knew he reserved just for her.

She finished her breakfast and cleared the table for him. "Would you please try and take a nap today?"

He nodded. "If I get tired."

"Well, ok, on second thought, don't if you think it would make it harder to sleep tonight," she said.

"Doesn't usually matter," he said, shaking his head. "I've got class this afternoon anyway, though."

"Ok, well, just think about it, ok? I'll try not to be so late tonight," she said.

"Ok. I'll be home probably around 6:30 or so," he said. "Maybe 7. Depends on how long the lab work takes."

"Sounds good. I've got to get ready to go," she said, glancing at the clock.

"Go, go. I'm going to run to the store before it gets ridiculously hot out there," he said, standing up and grabbing his car keys from the counter.

"All right, sweetie. See you later," she said, kissing him quickly before heading down the hallway to the bathroom for a shower. She really did hope he could sleep today. _I don't know if I can take it if he doesn't. We've been doing so well…_ she thought. Sighing, she turned on the shower and tried to push her worries away under the spray of water. Dwelling on it wasn't going to help any, and she had work to do.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

I'm counting on  
a heart I know by heart  
to walk me through this war  
Memories distort

Phone my family, tell them I'm lost  
on the sidewalk  
and, no, it's not OK

"Kamera", Wilco

* * *

Two days later, Tim was sitting in the lab, trying to ignore a headache in favor of a lab report, when Jack came into the room. "Hey."

"Hey," he said, raising his aching head. "What's up?"

"There's a motorcycle down in the garage that Horatio says I should take apart and process because it may have been used in a homicide. I'm told you're the resident expert with such things, so I wondered if you could give me a hand," Jack said.

"Sure," Tim said, pushing away from the table. "What kind of bike is it?"

"See, I don't know from motorcycles, which is why I came to you," Jack explained.

"Ah. Gotcha. Well, let's take a look," he said, following Jack out of the lab.

He yawned as he leaned against the back of the elevator. He really was tired, but his brain just wouldn't shut up long enough for him to actually fall asleep, even after two days. Calleigh was worried, he knew. He was just irritated.

"You ok?" Jack asked.

"Sure," he said. "Just kinda tired." He liked Jack the best of all the new people. Not that Scott and Kiara weren't perfectly fine people- they were, and he liked them well enough. But Jack had a certain steadiness about him that made him feel more comfortable with him. He reminded Tim a little bit of Sean sometimes; he had a bit of that same calm, "I'm not going to take your nonsense, so you might as well settle down and fly right" air about him. It was an attitude that Tim had sorely needed when he was about 22. It was still a little bit comforting now.

"Ok," Jack said, nodding. They walked down the hall to the garage. "There it is."

"Mmm," Tim said, looking at the bike critically. "Mid-range Harley."

"Yeah?" Jack said.

"Yeah. Not a piece of crap, but not top of the line either," he said, walking around it. "Damn, I miss my bike."

"You had one?" Jack said.

"Have. A Ducati," he sighed.

"Is that a good bike?" Jack asked.

Tim nodded. "Yup. Built for racing, not cruising like this one is," he said, wistfully, nodding towards the bike. "Oh, well, maybe in the fall." Andy refused to let him ride until they had his meds completely stabilized. He had to agree it was a good idea, since the meds made him slightly unsteady on his feet sometimes yet. Balance was a pretty crucial thing when it came to riding. "Horatio and Alexx are just as happy I can't ride anyway."

"Bet Calleigh is, too," Jack grinned.

"Nah, Cal doesn't care. She's fine so long as I wear my helmet and don't do stupid stuff like ride in the middle of a thunderstorm," _Or ride in the middle of the night_, he thought. "She can't really talk, given that her idea of unwinding involves the gun range and high caliber weaponry." He bent down to look at the engine. "What's H want us to look for?"

"I'm not really sure. It's the victim's bike, and it was at the scene, but I don't know if it was involved," Jack explained.

"Hmm," Tim said. He glanced at his watch. "Well, I'm only here until 12 today. How's this, I'll get it taken apart for you and mark anything that looks suspect, and then you can process?"

"Sounds good," Jack said. "Page me if you get something?"

"Sure," Tim said, straightening to go find a pair of coveralls.

He had everything taken apart and spread out on a tarp when Calleigh came into the room some time later. "Hey, you're still here," she said. "Weren't you leaving at noon today?"

He blinked up at her. "Yeah, I have an orthodontist appointment. Why?"

"Well, because it's 1:30," she said, crouching down next to him.

"Don't touch, I'm all over grease," he warned. He looked at his watch. "Damnit."

"Lost track of time?" she asked.

"Yeah," he sighed. He started to run his hand through his hair, but stopped.

"Sweetie, it's ok. You can reschedule the appointment," she said.

"I know," he said. "It's just…"

"I know," she said, gently. "You're tired."

"I am," he admitted.

"Have you called Andy? Told him what's happening?" she asked.

"Not yet," he said.

"Maybe you should," she said.

"Probably," he said. "I just want…I don't know, I'm tired, I'm frustrated, and I hate all of this."

"I know you do," she said. "I hate it all too."

"And you're tired and frustrated too," he said, nodding.

She laughed. "A little. Not as much as you are."

"Right," he said. He closed his eyes for a moment before pushing up to his feet.

"You got the bike all taken apart, why don't you leave the rest for Jack?" she suggested. "Go on home, since you're already scheduled off."

"There's still stuff upstairs that I was going to come back and do after the appointment," he sighed.

"You'll be here tomorrow. Is there really anything that can't wait until then?" she asked.

He thought a moment. "Probably not."

"All right then. Go home. See if you can lay down awhile. Everything will look better once you've had some sleep," she said. "I'll even take a look through the stuff on your desk and see if any of it is something I can take care of for you, ok?"

"Ok," he sighed. "I'm going to get cleaned up and then I'll go, ok?"

"Good," she said. "I'll see you tonight?"

"Right," he said. "I'd give you a kiss, but…"

"But you're all over grease. And since I'd like not to be, I'll take the intention," she laughed. "See you later."

"Bye," he said, as she walked out of the garage. He sighed. _I don't think this is working out quite the way Andy planned_, he thought as he went to wash up in the sink. _I'm pretty sure he thought it wouldn't be this bad. I don't know what's going to happen if I don't get some sleep, but I just can't keep my eyes shut._ The not knowing was the part that scared him the most. He'd been known to do some pretty stupid things when he was tired. And Calleigh didn't need the extra worry. He sighed again as he went to change out of the coverall and head home. Maybe if he tried again, this time it would work.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

There's a light at each end of this tunnel,  
You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out  
And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again  
If you only try turning around. 

"2 AM (Breathe)", Anna Nalick

* * *

"Oh, good, there you are," Calleigh said as she found Alexx in the lounge. 

"Were you looking for me, honey? What's wrong?" Alexx asked, looking up from her book.

"Nothing, it's just that Tim's not sleeping and he's all upset and irritable and he's going to make _me_ crazy and I don't know what to do about it," she said in a rush as she slumped down in the chair across from Alexx.

"Ah," Alexx said. "I'd wondered. He's avoiding me."

"Of course he is. He doesn't want anyone to worry about him. He says he's done this before, but that doesn't exactly increase my confidence level here. He does really, really stupid things when he's tired, Alexx. I mean, seriously stupid. It's like the reasoning part of his brain shuts down. He goes riding late at night. He runs away from home, for God's sake- the time he left New York? He hadn't slept in days. It's a miracle he didn't kill himself before he got out of the city," she said. "And I don't know if I can stop him."

"He listens to you, Calleigh, even when it seems like he doesn't," Alexx assured her. "Really. He probably listens to you more than the rest of us."

"Yeah, I'm not sure that's comforting, either," she sighed. "He's doing that thing again, where you can just _see_ his brain spinning behind his eyes. I hadn't noticed that wasn't happening until it started up again this week. And he's so restless. He's never still as it is, but it's even worse now."

"Has he talked to his doctor about this?" Alexx asked.

"Not yet, he says," Calleigh replied, closing her eyes.

"Is he going to?" Alexx asked.

"I don't know. I suggested that it might be a good idea, but I'm trying to be good about letting him deal with this the way he wants to. Because otherwise, _I'd_ have called Andy about two days ago." She opened her eyes and looked at Alexx. "I like Andy, I really do. He's usually very good with Tim and he doesn't let him get away with stuff. But I think he underestimated Tim's capacity for understatement with this one. You really have to take anything Tim says about himself and magnify it by at least a factor of two in order to know what he's really saying. I think in this case, it needed a factor of, like, 10, and Andy missed that. Because if he says it won't be that bad, you really have to know it's going to be awful."

"Right," Alexx said. "I agree."

"So maybe there should have been some more instructions involved or something. I don't know. This was probably going to happen anyway, but that doesn't make it easier, you know?" She ran her hands through her hair. "And _I'm_ not getting enough sleep, either, because I keep waking up to see if he's come to bed or not."

"Sweetie, he's going to be ok. If you believe that, he'll believe that, and that will help," Alexx said.

"Right," Calleigh sighed.

"Maybe you ought to take a breather," Alexx suggested.

"What do you mean?" Calleigh asked.

"Stay over with me tonight or something," Alexx replied.

Calleigh shook her head. "Oh, no. No, no. _That_ would just freak him out more. No, I'm not going to leave him to do this alone."

"Ok, honey, but I think if you get some rest, that's going to help the situation," Alexx said.

"I know. I'm trying. Who knows, maybe he'll have finally reached the meltdown point tonight and he'll pass out on the couch. Wouldn't that be nice?" she sighed.

"It would," Alexx agreed.

"It's the pattern, you know," Calleigh mused. "He doesn't sleep much or at all for days and then he collapses. I had just hoped to avoid it, I guess."

"Probably unavoidable, anymore," Alexx said.

"More than likely," Calleigh sighed. She looked at her watch. "All right. I have to get back to work. Thanks, Alexx."

"Anytime, baby. You let me know if I can do anything for you," Alexx said.

"I will. Thanks," Calleigh said, getting up and walking out of the room. Alexx was right. She had to trust that it would be ok. But it was getting harder and harder to trust in that.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

So scream you, out from behind the bitter ache  
Heavy on the memory, you need most  
Still want love, ugly, smooth and delicate  
Not without affection, not alone

And instead of wishing that it would get better  
Man, you're seeing that you just get angrier

"Angry", matchbox twenty

* * *

"No," Horatio said, after taking one look at Tim the next morning. "You're not staying."

"I'm fine," Tim protested.

"You're not fine. We've discussed this, Tim. You are not allowed to be here if you can't take care of yourself," Horatio said firmly.

"It's not my fault! I'd love to get some sleep, but I just can't," he said with frustration.

"I understand that," Horatio said, gently, "but this isn't a good place for you to be right now."

Tim bit back his first angry response. And then his second angry response, finally settling on, "Fine."

"Did you come in with Calleigh?" Horatio asked.

"No. I drove myself," he said, staring at the wall.

"Why don't I give you a ride home," Horatio suggested.

"I can do it myself," Tim replied, struggling to keep his temper in check. He was just so tired and so frustrated and just plain weary of restrictions and everything.

"Speed, let me take you home," Horatio said, again.

"I. Can. Do. It. My. Self." he said, again, through gritted teeth. He wasn't an invalid, for Christ's sake.

"All right," Horatio acquiesced. "Would you please call when you get home so I know you made it all right?"

"Fine," Tim muttered.

"If you get some sleep tonight and tomorrow night, you can come back Saturday, all right?" Horatio said.

"Fine," he said. "See you." He turned on his heel and walked out of the lab before Horatio could say anything else.

By the time he got home, he was seething. He wasn't even completely sure why he was so angry, but all he wanted to do was pound something. The cats scattered as he stomped into the living room, too wound up to even pause. He paced through the house, angrily hitting his hand against the walls at random.

When that failed to satisfy, he thought briefly about his bike. _Calleigh would kill you. And then hide your body_. The thought penetrated through the haze and made him stop in the middle of the kitchen. He couldn't ride. Not keyed up like this. He couldn't trust himself enough. But he still wanted something to take his frustrations out on. His eyes settled a bag of potatoes on the counter. Mashed potatoes. Good enough.

He scrubbed and peeled potatoes with a vengeance, and then started hacking them up into pieces smaller than they probably needed to be. But the knife felt too good in his hands. He stopped paying attention to anything other than the satisfying way it cut through the potatoes. Everything stopped for a moment and he didn't know it had happened until the pain finally penetrated.

He'd cut his arm. There was blood running down his hand and he stopped and stared at it in fascination. He had no idea how he'd gone from cutting potatoes to cutting his own flesh, but it had happened.

"Tim?" Calleigh called from the living room. "Are you here?"

He stared at his arm, still disbelieving that it was bleeding.

"Tim?"

He turned around to face Calleigh, and the look of sheer horror on her face was the last thing he saw before collapsing into a boneless heap on the kitchen floor.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

Don't fall away and leave me to myself  
Don't fall away and leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands again  
And leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands  
Love lies bleeding

"Hemorrhage (In My Hands)", Fuel

* * *

"I'm Calleigh Duquesne, my boyfriend, Tim Speedle was just brought in by ambulance?" she asked the woman at the front desk of the Emergency Department.

"I'm sorry, hon, I can't release information about patients to anyone but family," the woman replied, regretfully.

"I _am_ family," Calleigh protested. The woman opened her mouth to respond, but Calleigh shook her head. "No, no, I know." It wasn't the woman's fault that the hospital had a really narrow definition of the word family. "I'm a cop, how's that?" she asked, pulling her badge out.

The woman hesitated, then said, "How's this. I'll go back and see if he's here and if he can talk. If he tells me it's ok for you to talk to the doctor, then I'll come get you, ok?"

"Thank you," Calleigh said. If Tim was awake, he was probably wondering where she was. They hadn't let her come in the ambulance. "Is there a phone I can use?" she asked, glancing at the "No Cell Phones, Please" sign on the wall.

"Sure, honey, right over there. I'll be right back," the woman said, waving someone else over to take her place.

"Thank you," Calleigh said again, walking over to the phone.

She took a deep breath and dialed Horatio's cell phone. "Caine," he answered.

"Horatio? It's me," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

"Calleigh? What's wrong?" Horatio asked instantly.

"I'm at the hospital with Tim. He…I don't know what happened, but he cut his arm somehow and he passed out so I had to call the ambulance because I couldn't get him up off the floor by myself," she said.

"Which hospital?"

"University. They won't tell me anything yet," she said.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," Horatio said. "Did you call his therapist?"

"No, why?" she asked, confused.

"Calleigh, they're going to want to slap a psych hold on him once they see his medication history. I'd rather that determination be made by his doctor, not the hospital, don't you think?" Horatio said.

"Right," she said faintly. "I'll call now."

"Good. Hang in there, I'll be there as soon as I can." Horatio hung up before she could reply.

She fumbled with her cell phone a moment to get Andy's number. The receptionist answered "Dr. McCall and Associates."

"Hi, my name is Calleigh Duquesne, and I'm Tim Speedle's girlfriend. He's a patient of Dr. McCall's?"

"Of course," the receptionist replied, obviously recognizing Tim's name. "Is something the matter?"

"We're at the hospital. Tim cut his arm somehow, and I…well, I don't know what's going on, but…"

"Hold on a moment," the receptionist interrupted her. "Dr. McCall isn't with a patient now, so let me see if he's free to talk to you, ok?"

"Thank you," Calleigh said, relieved.

Andy must have been free because she was on hold for less than a minute. "Calleigh?"

"Andy?" she asked.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I don't know. He went to work today, and Horatio sent him home immediately, because he's not been sleeping and that's part of the deal. He said Tim was upset when he left, and he'd asked him to call when he got home to make sure he was ok, but Tim never called. I happened to be out near the house talking to a witness for a case, and Horatio called and asked me to check on Tim and make sure he was ok. I walked into the kitchen and he was standing there bleeding and then he passed out," she said, breathlessly.

"You didn't see him cut himself?" Andy asked.

"No. I don't think he'd done it very long before I got there, though," she said. "At a guess."

"Ok. What hospital?" he asked.

"University," she said.

"Good, I have privileges there. Let me get over there and see what I can do," Andy said.

"Thank you," Calleigh replied, relieved.

"I'll be there shortly. I'll find you as soon as I know anything," Andy promised.

"All right, thanks," Calleigh said, hanging up.

"Ms. Duquesne?" someone asked.

"Yes?" she said, turning to find a nurse standing there.

"I'm Patti. I'm one of the nurses. Your boyfriend sent me to find you so you can answer some questions," she said.

"He did?" Calleigh asked, blinking. _What kind of questions?_ she wondered. She certainly didn't know why he'd cut himself.

"I believe his exact words were 'I can't think, go ask my girlfriend, she knows.'" Patti replied.

Calleigh was still just a bit surprised when he called her his girlfriend. She shook it off quickly, though and said, "Um, ok." She let the nurse lead her into a triage room. "He's awake, then?"

"Oh, yes. Awake and asking for you. I can't take you back, though, I'm sorry," Patti said. "But he's in pretty good shape."

"Good," she said, faintly. "What questions?"

"He said you know his medical history?" Patti asked.

"Oh," she said, nodding, half-relieved. "Yes. I can answer those questions."

"Ok, first of all, when's his birthday?" Patti asked.

"Next week," she sighed. "June 24th. Um, 1974," she said, doing the subtraction quickly. "He couldn't tell you that?"

"He wouldn't answer anything, just said he wanted you," Patti said.

"He doesn't do well in hospitals," Calleigh said.

"We'll keep it in mind," Patti said. "Is he allergic to anything?"

Calleigh shook her head, "No. No allergies."

"Is he on any medications?" The question she'd half dreaded, even though she knew it was important.

"Yeah. Amoxicillin, Nexium, Lexapro, Paxil and Ativan, when he needs it. He has panic attacks," she said, hoping that he wasn't having one right at the moment.

"Has he been sick?" Patti asked.

"Hm?" Calleigh asked, frowning.

"The Amoxicillin," Patti asked.

"Oh, right. No, he hasn't. He had surgery to repair an open jaw fracture and had his spleen removed in September. Um, the 21st, I think. Last year. His job is in a high risk category for infection, so he's on the antibiotic therapy indefinitely," she explained.

"What does he do?" Patti asked.

"Crime Scene Investigator," Calleigh replied. "We see a lot of dead bodies and such."

"Right," Patti said, eyes widening. "The antidepressants, how long has he been on them?"

Calleigh closed her eyes and thought. It had taken a little while to get all the dosages correct and there'd been some medication switches along the way. "The Ativan since September. The Paxil since October, I think, and I think the Lexapro was in November," she said, finally.

"They're not new, though," Patti asked.

"No, not new."

"He went on them after the surgery?" Patti asked.

Calleigh nodded. "He's got post traumatic stress syndrome due to the assault that caused the injuries, yes. He was assaulted on the job, and two other officers were killed."

"Oh!" Patti said. "I think I remember reading about that."

"Right," Calleigh said, grimly. "It was a rough winter."

"I can imagine. Have there been any changes in his medications, recently? Cutting the dosages or anything?"

Calleigh sighed. "He'd been on Ambien. He has severe insomnia. His doctor took him off of it this week. He hasn't slept since Sunday, at least not more than a couple of hours."

"I see," Patti said, writing something down.

"His doctor is on his way over," Calleigh added.

"Good," Patti said. "That will help. Has he ever made any sort of indication towards self-harm before?"

Calleigh paused. _Well, not sleeping and not eating and overworking are somewhat self-destructive, right? But he's never actually done anything to hurt himself before, that I know of…_ "Not that I know of," she said, slowly. "I mean, it could have just been an accident?"

"Perhaps," Patti said, unconvincingly. "That's all I needed to know, though. Thank you."

"I can't come back?" Calleigh asked, knowing the answer was no, but wanting to ask anyway.

"I'm sorry, no. Maybe after he gets stitched up," Patti offered.

"Ok," Calleigh said.

"We'll come tell you if anything happens," Patti assured her. "He gave us permission to tell you and anyone with you what's going on."

"Ok, good," she said. "I guess I'll just be out here, then."

"We'll let you know," Patti said, standing up and leading her out to the waiting room. Horatio wasn't there yet, she saw. She sat down and closed her eyes. _How did we get here, Tim? How did this happen? How much more can we take?_ she wondered. They were questions without answers, and she knew it. But she wondered anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

All night  
Hearing voices telling me  
That I should get some sleep  
Because tomorrow might be good for something  
Hold on  
I'm feeling like I'm headed for a  
Breakdown  
I don't know why

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell  
I know, right now you can't tell  
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
A different side of me  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired  
I know, right now you don't care  
But soon enough you're gonna think of me  
And how I used to be

"Unwell," matchbox twenty

* * *

The nurse was still sitting in the chair. Things were hazy, but he was awake again. He'd been drifting in and out, and not sure what was going on.

"Is Calleigh here?" he asked. He had the feeling he'd been asking, and should know the answer, but he wasn't sure.

"She's in the waiting room. She's fine," the nurse replied. He couldn't remember her name.

"Oh," he said. He looked down at the IV in his hand. "What's in there?" he asked, nodding towards bag hanging from the pole.

"Just saline and electrolytes. You were dehydrated," she explained.

"Oh," he replied again. He listened to the noise outside of the room. "It's pretty busy in here," he commented.

"A little, yes," the nurse said, nodding.

"And you're with me," he said, wondering at that. It would seem that she would have better things to do.

"I'm here with you,' she replied, smiling a little. "It's all right."

He looked down at his arm. The cut was covered by a bandage- it hadn't been stitched up yet. It didn't hurt, exactly. But he was kind of not entirely coherent, so it was entirely possible it did hurt, and he just didn't know it. He wasn't sure he liked the disconnected way he was feeling. Somehow it was different from just being tired.

There was a knock at the door, and Andy poked his head into the room. "Hi, I'm Dr. McCall. Tim's one of my patients. Could I have a moment with him, please?"

"Certainly," the nurse said, standing up. "If you need anything, the call button is right there," she told Tim, pointing out the button.

"Thanks," Andy said, coming in and taking the chair the nurse vacated. He waited for her to leave and close the door before saying, "So. Mind telling me what happened?"

Tim frowned. "I don't know, exactly."

"Try that again," Andy said, raising his eyebrows. "You went to work this morning. What happened then?"

"H sent me home," Tim said, his eyes narrowing as he tried to remember. "I got angry. I was just really, I don't know, frustrated."

"So you got angry and went home. And what were you thinking when you got there?" Andy said.

"Just that I wanted to pound something. I don't know." He shook his head. It all seemed very distant and vague.

"How'd you cut yourself?" Andy asked.

Tim shook his head again. "I didn't know I was doing it."

"What were you doing with the knife in the first place?" Andy raised an eyebrow at him.

"Making mashed potatoes," Tim replied.

Andy closed his eyes and shook his head. "Why were you…no, never mind."

"Calleigh gets the same look on her face," Tim remarked, half-fascinated.

Andy laughed. "Oh, I'm sure she does."

"Where is she?" he asked.

"In the waiting room," Andy said.

"Can I see her?" he asked.

"Maybe in a minute," Andy said. "Tell me more about the knife."

"What do you want to know?" Tim asked. "It's a knife." He was starting to wake up a bit, somehow. And he really didn't understand why everyone was asking so many questions. He was angry. He tried to make mashed potatoes. The knife must have slipped. He didn't know how it had happened, just that it did happen.

"Did you intend to use it to cut yourself?" Andy asked.

Realization dawned suddenly. "Oh…oh!" he said, eyes widening. "You think…I…no, no, I didn't mean to do it."

"But you don't know how it happened?" Andy asked.

"The knife must have slipped," he said, shaking his head.

Andy studied him for a long moment. "All right," he said finally. "Can I see the cut?"

Tim shrugged and held his arm out. Andy gently peeled back the bandage. "Looks like it hurt."

"Not really," Tim said.

"Ok," Andy said, putting the bandage back to rights. "How do you feel now? Are you still angry?"

"No. Tired. Scared, a bit," he said, looking back at the cut on his arm.

"Do you feel like you want to hurt yourself?" Andy asked.

"No," he said. "Calleigh's going to kill me."

"You scared her, that's for sure," Andy said. "You scared me, too. And probably everyone else."

"I didn't mean to," he said, contritely. "I'm sorry."

"I know," Andy said. "I believe you didn't intend to do this. But it doesn't look very good, you understand."

"Yes," he said.

"All right. Do you feel safe about going home?" Andy asked.

"I think so," he said. "I don't want to stay here."

"Ok," Andy said. "I think I can get you out of here. But someone's going to be with you at all times. And you're seeing me every day for the next week. I think we're putting you back on the Ambien, too."

"Right," Tim said.

"And I'm sorry, too," Andy said.

"What for?" Tim asked.

"I should have told you to go ahead and take the meds last night, instead of saying you should try and tough it out one more night. You tried to tell me you were in trouble and I didn't hear you," Andy explained.

"I didn't know this was going to happen," Tim said. "How could you have known if I didn't know?"

"All right," Andy said. "But it's my job to know."

Tim shrugged. "It's ok."

"I am going to go talk to Calleigh. I'll be back in a little while," Andy said.

"Can you get her back here?" Tim asked.

"I don't know. I'll see," Andy said.

"Please?" he asked.

"I'll see," Andy said. "I'll be back in awhile. Behave yourself."

"Ok," Tim said.

The nurse was back within thirty seconds. He understood why, now. He dimly remembered telling Calleigh a long time ago that if he was going to kill himself, he'd have done it by now. Maybe he'd been wrong. That was a scary thought.

"Do you think you can walk down the hall to the suture room?" the nurse asked him.

"Yeah," he said, sitting up carefully. He was dizzy, a bit, but not so much that he couldn't walk. He'd felt worse before.

"Ok," she said, cheerfully. "Carefully, now."

He sat quietly, staring at the wall, while the resident stitched up his arm. He didn't want to watch.

"All right," Andy said, coming into the room as the resident finished up. "I'm getting you out of here. I think what you need more than anything is a good amount of sleep and I think you'll get that better at home. Let's get you cleaned up and ready to go."

"Ok," Tim said, following him unsteadily back to the room he'd been in. "Where's my shirt?" he asked, frowning.

"It's in here," the nurse said, handing him a bag. "I think it's probably a lost cause. Here, you can just wear this," she said, handing him a scrub top. He shrugged into it while Andy signed some papers.

"Sign here," Andy said, handing him the clipboard.

He glanced at the paper and scrawled his signature at the bottom. "Aren't there instructions?" he asked, blinking.

"I gave them to Calleigh," Andy said.

"Oh," he said. That was probably just as well, because he probably wouldn't remember them anyway. "Ok, then."

"Ready?" Andy asked.

"Sure," he said.

They walked out into the waiting room, where Tim was instantly plastered with a giant hug from Calleigh. "Oh my God, oh my God," she whispered over and over again.

He put his arms around her. "Shh," he whispered, leaning his cheek on the top of her head. He couldn't tell if she was shivering or if he was shaking. Maybe they both were.

"Calleigh, honey, you've got to let him go if we're going to get out of here," Alexx's voice said gently.

She pulled away and looked up at him, eyes full of terror. "Ok?" she asked.

"I think so," he said, his stomach clenching at the thought that he was the reason for her fear.

"Ok," she said softly. "I need to go back to work and get my things and I need to go to the drugstore and get some peroxide and your meds filled. Alexx will take you home, ok?"

He blinked at her. "Ok," he said, uncertainly.

"All right, then. I'll see you in a little while," she said, letting him go. He watched her walk out with Horatio and frowned.

"Let's get you home, baby," Alexx said, gently, touching his arm.

"Right. Ok," he said, letting her lead him out of the hospital. _There's consequences to actions, Timothy,_ he thought. _And some of them you might not like. _


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

* * *

Nothing's true and nothing's right  
So let me be alone tonight  
Cause you can't change the way I am

"Strong Enough", Sheryl Crow

* * *

"How's he doing?" Calleigh asked Alexx when she got home.

"I don't think he's asleep yet," Alexx said. "He wasn't interested in eating."

"No, I don't imagine so," Calleigh said.

"You're still going over to Horatio's tonight?" she asked.

"Yeah," she said. "I know I said I wasn't going to leave him alone with this, but…"

"I think it's a good idea, honey," Alexx said. "You need some sleep too. Let me worry about him tonight."

"I just…I don't know what to think anymore," she said in a small voice.

"I know," Alexx said. "It will all work out. I'm sure of it. I think he's just as scared as you are now."

"God. I don't want that, either," she sighed.

"Go tell him where you're going," Alexx said.

"He's going to be upset, I think," she said.

"I think he'll understand," Alexx said. "Tim certainly understands needing time alone to think."

"True." She closed her eyes. "All right."

She walked down the hall to the bedroom. Tim was still awake, fighting sleep. "Hey," she said, gently, sitting down on the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Not so great," he admitted, blinking hard to keep his eyes from shutting.

"Were you trying to wait up for me?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"Oh, sweetie," she whispered, her resolve nearly escaping. She didn't say anything for a long moment. "I have something to tell you," she said, finally.

"Mmm?" he asked, his face creasing into a sleepy frown.

"I'm going to go stay with Horatio tonight," she said, simply. "I'll be back in the morning, but…well, I…I don't know. I just…need to not be here tonight."

"Oh," he said, slowly. He sucked on his bottom lip a moment. "Ok," he said, finally.

"I'll be back in the morning," she repeated. "I promise. It's just I need some sleep too. And I think I'd be too worried and, well, too scared to get it if I stayed here. So, Alexx is going to stay with you tonight."

"Ok," he said again.

"I love you," she said, uncertainly.

"I love you, too," he said.

"It's not that…" she said. "Well."

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry, too." She reached out and kissed his forehead. "Sleep, ok? Don't fight. I'll be here in the morning, probably even before you wake up, ok?"

"Ok," he said, eyes drooping.

"Good night, honey."

"Night," he mumbled, before dropping off completely. She sat and made sure he was well and truly out before getting up and leaving the room.

A little while later, she knocked on the door of Horatio's condo, feeling thoroughly worthless. "Hi," she said, despondently when he answered the door.

"Hey," Horatio said, gently. "Come on in."

"Thanks for letting me stay over," she said.

"It's no trouble at all," he said, leading her down a hallway. "Here's the guest room. The bathroom is across the hall if you want to get cleaned up or anything."

"Would you mind horribly if I took a shower?" she asked.

"Of course not. Go right ahead. I'm going to see what I can do about some dinner, ok?" he asked.

"Fine. I won't be long," she said. He nodded and went back down the hallway. She found her shower things and pajamas in her bag and went into the bathroom.

The hot water felt ridiculously good, considering it was nearly 90 degrees outside. She stood numbly under the spray, eyes closed, trying to chase away the awful images from the kitchen. It was worse than the warehouse; she'd never seen the actual warehouse, just photographs from the scene. It had all been imagination. But this time it was real. It was the kitchen she sat in every day.

Suddenly, she was sobbing. She cried so hard, she wound up crouched down on the floor of the shower. _How could he do this to us? I can't lose him, I don't know what I'd do. Why the hell do I love him so much if he could do something like that_, she thought.

The water was cold when she finally straightened up. She turned it off and got out of the shower. Her eyes were red and her face was blotchy from crying, but there was no help for it. She sighed and went to join Horatio in the kitchen.

"I called for pizza," Horatio said, when she came in. "I haven't been to the store this week, so there's not much."

"No, pizza is fine," she said, vaguely, sitting down across from him.

"Are you all right?" Horatio asked.

"I…maybe, no?" she said.

"I'm sorry," Horatio said. "Maybe I shouldn't have sent him home."

"No, you should have. He shouldn't have gone to work. I didn't even know he was going to," she said.

"He did it on purpose, didn't he?" Horatio asked, uncomfortably.

Calleigh closed her eyes. "It's not really clear. Andy said it was deliberate, but not intentional, if that makes any sort of sense whatsoever."

"He did it on purpose, but he didn't mean to?" Horatio blinked.

"Something like that. I mean, it's clear that the knife didn't just slip, although that's what Tim says happened. He had to have done it himself. But he says he didn't intend to hurt himself. Andy believes him," Calleigh replied.

"What do you think?" Horatio asked.

"I…don't know. It's true that he's not ever really shown any propensity for self-mutilation before. Tim's idea of self-destructive generally involves not eating and driving around town trying not to crash into anything, but probably secretly hoping he will. Or picking fights with Eric, and half hoping Eric would pound him. Obviously that one's not an option anymore, but he could have gotten on his bike. I'm glad he didn't, but not if this was the result, I think," she said, slowly.

"Right," Horatio said, grimly.

"Andy did say, however, that it was not a suicidal action, at all. He's pretty certain Tim wasn't trying for that, whatever else he was doing. Tim knows plenty well enough about how things work that he could have done that very easily, but he didn't," she said.

"That's a relief," Horatio said.

"It is," she agreed. "Now if we could figure out what he was thinking in the first place…actually, I don't think we will. I will be surprised if he can actually tell us anything other than he already has. This is going to be one of those things he can't remember, I think," she sighed. "He hasn't been…well, sad, I guess, though. I don't understand what happened, at all. He's been doing really, really well."

"Someone told me once that depression isn't sadness, it's anger turned inward," Horatio suggested. "He was certainly angry."

"Hmm," Calleigh said. "That's not exactly comforting. But it makes more sense, I suppose."

"His doctor is putting him back on the sleeping pills?" Horatio asked.

"Yeah. He thinks the insomnia is obviously a bigger problem than the medication," Calleigh sighed.

"Even though they're addicting?" Horatio asked.

"There's a new one that came out recently that's supposed to be able to be used for long term use," she said. "But you know, I don't care if they're addicting if it means I never have to walk into a room and find Tim covered in blood again."

"This is a good point," Horatio agreed.

"Yes," she said.

The pizza came and she ate mechanically. It was chain pizza, which she hadn't had since moving in with Tim. He hated pizza chains. Said the pizza was always cardboard. Another legacy of his experiences in New York. She couldn't have told the difference between the two right now.

"What are you thinking?" Horatio asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "On one hand, I feel like I'm bad person for leaving tonight. On the other hand, I'm not sure I could have stayed."

"I don't think you're a bad person. Was Tim upset?" Horatio asked.

"I don't think he could be upset about anything right now if he wanted to," Calleigh said. "I think they gave him extra Ativan at the hospital. Plus, he's so exhausted, I don't think he's got any capacity to feel much right now. But no, I don't think he was pleased I left."

"I think he probably understands, though," Horatio said.

"I know. I think that might be worse," she sighed. "Anyway."

"I think you did the right thing. You need some rest. He needs some rest," Horatio said.

"That's what Alexx said," she replied.

"Well, Alexx is very rarely wrong," Horatio said, with a raised eyebrow.

"I know." She shook her head. "I'm tired and not thinking straight."

"Then go on to bed," Horatio said. "You certainly could use an early night, I think."

"Yes," she agreed. "Thank you."

"Anytime," Horatio replied, with a small smile. "Would you like me to wake you when I go in the morning?"

"Please," she said. "I promised Tim I'd be back in the morning. He'll probably still be asleep- at least I hope he'll be- but I want to keep the promise."

"Good. I will see you in the morning, then," he said.

"See you," she sighed as she got up from the table.

She'd half expected to toss and turn in the unfamiliar bed, but she was out like a light almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. An early night, apparently, had been just what she needed.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

* * *

When you gonna make up your mind?  
When you gonna love you as much as I do?  
When you gonna make up your mind?  
"Winter", Tori Amos

* * *

Tim rubbed absently at the bandage on his arm as he sat next to Calleigh at the pharmacy. She had, in fact, been home before he woke up, for which he was glad. But she'd been oddly quiet the whole day. He didn't know what to say to her, and she didn't seem to want to say much to him. He sighed.

"Tired?" she asked, glancing at him.

"Yeah," he said.

"What else did Andy say other than he's switching your sleeping meds?" she asked.

"Something about coming up with a schedule so I don't have a whole lot of extra time on my hands and so I kind of get more into a routine so eventually maybe we can get me off the sleeping pills. He seems to think the not sleeping thing is what triggers a lot of the worst stuff, so that needs to not happen," he said.

"Good," she said.

The pharmacist waved at him to tell him his prescription was ready. He sighed and levered himself up from the chair to go pay for it. "Ready?" he asked, turning back to Calleigh. She nodded and headed towards the front of the store.

They were quiet in the car again. She was driving. He wanted to say something, but didn't know how. "I'm sorry," he said, finally. It was the only thing he knew to say.

"I know," she sighed. The way she said it implied that of course he was sorry, but it really wasn't good enough. But what _was_ good enough?

"Look, Calleigh," he said, slowly, "you need to tell me what you're thinking. I can't just figure it out. I barely know what _I'm_ thinking or feeling at any given moment. I'm really not capable of figuring you out too. I know you're upset with me. But I don't know how to fix it unless you _tell_ me what it is you need!"

She blinked. "I don't expect you to figure out what I'm feeling," she said.

"But you are," he said. "You're upset, I got that. And I kind of get why, but there's something else wrong and I just don't know what."

"Well, of course I'm upset, Tim. You cut the hell out of your arm. In the middle of the kitchen. On purpose. So, yeah, I'm not exactly happy about that," she said. They were home by that point, sitting in the car in the carport.

"I didn't know it was happening," he protested.

"So how do you know it won't happen again?" she asked. "How can I trust you to know it's not going to happen again? Because now I've got a picture in my head of you covered in blood in the kitchen and I know you don't remember that, but I have to now," she said, getting a bit more heated.

"I just spent an hour coming up with a plan with Andy so it won't happen again," he said.

"Plans fall through, Tim," she said, simply.

"Then I'll come up with a backup plan. Is that what you want?" he asked.

"It's not that simple," she said.

"Calleigh, I didn't know it was going to happen in the first place. I can't promise you it won't happen again. I can promise to do my best, but I'm getting the idea that my best isn't good enough for you," he said.

"It's not that, Tim," she said, with a sigh. "It's…oh, I don't know," she said, shaking her head. She got out of the car and headed for the house.

He followed her. They went in the house and she sat down on the couch. He stood in the doorway and looked at her. She sat with her arms folded tightly around her, and just looked at him. "Do you want to walk away?" he asked. "Leave now?"

"What?" she asked, a startled expression crossing her face. "Don't be silly." But the way she said it didn't sound like he was being silly at all.

"I'm not. I'm saying, if this is going to make it so you can't be happy, then maybe we ought to leave it go here," he said, softly. "I don't…I don't want you staying just because you're scared of what might happen if you go. I'll be ok. I'll be upset, but I'll be ok."

"Do you _want_ me to leave?" she asked, half incredulously.

"No," he said simply. "I really don't. But I want you to be happy."

"Tim…" she said, but stopped. "I don't know. I can't think," she said. "I mean, part of me is wondering how in the world I can trust you anymore."

"I didn't mean for it to happen," he said, finding that he had to try very hard not to snap the words at her. This was frustrating. He could feel his irritation rising. He stopped short on what he was about to say, and scrubbed a hand over his face. When he opened his eyes, he saw that she was looking at him with a mixture of irritation, fear, and worry. "Ok," he said, taking a deep breath. "All right. Look, I'm still pretty damn tired. You're probably also tired. I think we're both a bit more than a little stressed out. I don't think this conversation is going to help either of us right now. Let's do this. I'll call Alexx and see if I can stay over there tonight. You can stay here and think things through, or not, whatever you want."

"Tim, it's your house, if anyone's going to go…" she started.

"Calleigh. You live here too," he said, gently. "You left last night. You stay here tonight."

That brought her up short. "Ok," she said, softly.

"All right, then," he said. He turned around and went into the kitchen and grabbed the phone from the counter to dial Alexx's number. As the phone rang in his ear, he looked at the kitchen. It had been cleaned up, probably by Alexx. He really had no memory of any of it- he couldn't even remember where he'd been standing, or which knife it had been. Calleigh did, though.

"Hello?" Alexx answered the phone.

"Hey, Alexx?" he said.

"Hi, baby. What's up?" she asked.

"Can I stay over at your place tonight?" he asked.

"Well, of course. Is everything ok?" she asked.

"Sort of," he said. "I mean…well, I don't know, exactly. Calleigh kind of needs to think," he explained.

"Ah," Alexx said. "You're certainly welcome to come over, then. Peter and the kids are out of town at his parents', so it's just me. Do you need me to come get you?"

"No, Andy said I don't have to be watched anymore. I'll come over myself," he said.

"All right, sweetie. Come on whenever," she said. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Thanks, Alexx. I'll be there in a little while," he said, hanging up. He went into the bedroom to get his pajamas, then back to the kitchen to get his medication together. Calleigh was still in the living room. He poked his head into the room and said. "I'm going to go. I'll be back in the morning. Unless you call and tell me otherwise," he said.

"Ok," she said, softly, not quite looking at him.

"I love you," he said, half helplessly.

"I love you, too," she said, still not looking at him. "It's not…"

"I know," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ok," she said, closing her eyes. He looked at her for a moment more, then went out the back door.

Alexx was sitting on her porch swing when he arrived. "Hello, sugar," she said, as he got out of the car.

"Hi," he sighed. He came and sat next to her.

"Did you and Calleigh have a fight?" she asked.

"Not exactly. It probably would have been if I hadn't left, though. I didn't want that," he said. "She's upset with me."

"She's scared," Alexx said.

"Well, so am I," he said. "She said she didn't know if she could trust me not to do this again."

"Ah," Alexx said. She was quiet for a long moment.

"I just want her to tell me what she wants me to do," he said. "I mean, I'll do it. I just need to know what it is."

"I know," Alexx said. "She loves you, honey. She's just worn out right now. It'll work out."

"I hope so," he said. "I never wanted this before. It's different than it was with Bridget."

"It's hard for you," Alexx said.

"But I think it's ok," he said. "I'd miss her if she left."

"Was she talking about leaving?" Alexx asked, frowning.

"No. I asked if she wanted to. I don't want her to stay because she's afraid of what would happen to me if she left. I want her to stay because she wants to," he said.

"Ah," Alexx said. "Well, love, I don't know what to tell you, other than it'll be ok."

He shrugged. "Yeah."

"Have you had dinner?" she asked.

"No," he said.

"Well, let's see what we can find. A little food, some more sleep, and you'll be much better," Alexx said, getting up and walking towards the door.

"Ok," he shrugged, following her. He hoped Alexx was right. But he wouldn't feel certain of it until he saw Calleigh in the morning. He had a feeling that would tell him all he needed to know.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

* * *

But I'm warning you, don't ever do  
those crazy, messed up things that you do  
If you ever do  
I promise you I'll be the first to crucify you  
Now it's time to prove that you've come back  
here to rebuild.

"Call and Answer", Barenaked Ladies

* * *

Calleigh heard the back door close as Tim left. She wanted to call after him, but couldn't bring herself to move. She really did not know what she wanted anymore. Part of her wanted to say, "ok, it happened, let's move on," but part of her was completely scared to be a part of this anymore.

She sighed and stood up to wander around the house. She was so used to thinking of it as Tim's house that he'd surprised her when he reminded her that she lived there too. All spring he'd been trying to get her to talk about how she wanted to set up this and that around the house. It wasn't a very big house, and while Tim didn't have a lot of random stuff, he did have a gigantic book collection that had taken over the office and a good part of the living room. There just wasn't a whole lot of space in those two rooms for her things. She hadn't minded, really, and she'd kept putting off making a decision of where she wanted some of her things set up. They'd been so busy, her with work and him with work and school. Now she wondered if in the back of her mind if she'd been putting off the decisions because she was half afraid something like this would happen and she'd be faced with making a decision to stay or go. Because that was what it boiled down to- did she want to move on with Tim, or did she want to leave him behind and go start over on her own. Both choices made her stomach hurt right now.

The kitchen drew her in, and she stood in the doorway and looked at it. Alexx had cleaned it up before she'd even gotten home yesterday; Calleigh knew that was part of why Alexx had suggested that she go to the drug store for peroxide and pain meds for Tim. But she could still see where he'd stood and where the blood had pooled on the floor. She shook her head sharply and made herself walk in to get something to eat from the fridge. She wasn't hungry, but it was dinnertime. Crackers and cheese and an apple were good enough.

She took the food back into the living room and turned on the television. The movie they'd tried to watch the other night was still in the DVD player. It would do well enough while she ate.

The phone rang as the movie was finishing up. She answered, unsure if she hoped it was Tim or not. "Hello?"

"Calleigh? How are you?" It was her mother. She didn't want to talk to her mother.

"I'm…" she started to answer, but found herself in tears.

"Calleigh? What's wrong?" her mother asked. "Are you and Tim fighting or something?"

"I don't know," she wailed. "I can't tell if we were fighting or not."

"Honey, I'm confused," her mom said.

"Me too," she admitted. She caught her breath and explained the whole situation to her mom, telling her about Tim's exhaustion and cutting himself and her uncertainty. "So now, I don't know if I can trust him. Who's to say he won't do it again? Who's to say it won't be worse next time?"

"Oh, honey," her mother sighed.

"I don't know what to do," Calleigh said.

"Well, honey, you've got two choices. You can leave and be unhappy, or you can trust that he's going to be all right."

"How do you trust someone who does these sorts of things?" Calleigh asked.

"You just close your eyes and take the leap," her mother said.

Calleigh thought for a moment. "Do you trust Daddy?" she asked.

"I do," her mother said. "I trust that he'll always come home eventually."

"But…" Calleigh said, trailing off.

"Honey, your daddy has hurt me, that's true. And he's hurt you, that's true too. And I think part of your problem here is that you're worried that if you stay with Tim it'll wind up being like your daddy and me. But honey, Tim's not your daddy. He's getting help, right?" her mom asked.

"Yes," Calleigh agreed.

"Well, right there is a big difference," her mom said. "Calleigh, is this boy your 'in sickness and in health' guy?"

"Oh, no, Mom, it's way too early for that sort of thing," Calleigh said, shaking her head.

"Calleigh Marie," her mother said, in that "don't you lie to me" tone that all mothers possess.

"Ok, yes," Calleigh admitted. "I think so."

"Then what are you afraid of?" her mother said. "Listen, honey, when it comes to these kinds of things with the people you love, you've got to love them and trust that they can take care of themselves. You've been trying to take care of Tim for so long that I think that's what's got you in knots. The boy can take care of himself. He seems like a very capable young man."

"Mom, Tim's really not any good at…wait, how would you know?" she asked, confused.

"I've had several conversations with Tim, Calleigh," her mother replied.

"You have?" Calleigh asked, incredulously.

"You're not always home when I call, honey. And you really didn't think I wasn't going to try and get to know the man my only daughter is living with, now, did you? I think Tim's a very nice person, even if he is a Yankee," her mother replied.

"Huh," Calleigh said. "He never says anything more than that you called."

"He's not that talkative, is he?" her mother asked.

"Not entirely, no," Calleigh had to admit. "Ok, fine, you've talked to Tim."

"Yes, I have," her mother said.

"And you don't think I'm making a mistake if I stay?" she asked.

"I don't think so, no, but it's not for me to say," her mother pointed out. "Honey, if you can love him, then stay. If you can't, then go."

"Well, thanks, Mom, you've been a load of help," Calleigh said sarcastically.

"Sarcasm is unbecoming of a lady," her mother said primly.

"Yes, yes, I know," she sighed. "All right."

"Are you still coming down at the end of July?" her mother asked.

"Yes, I'm still coming down," Calleigh said. "I bought the plane tickets last week. I'll send you the flight info."

"Good. Are you bringing Tim with you?" her mother asked. "If you decide to stay, that is."

Calleigh sighed. "No. His brother is going to school down here this fall, and that's the weekend he's moving in, so Tim's family will be here."

"Wow. That early?" her mother asked.

"Matt's going to be on the swim team, and they've got orientation or training or something like that starting the first week of August, I guess," Calleigh explained.

"Ah," her mother said. "Well, I'll be sorry to miss him."

"Yeah," Calleigh said.

"Ok, honey, I'll let you go. You think about what I said, now, you hear?" her mother said.

"I will," she replied. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Call me and let me know how it all turns out."

"Ok, Mom. Talk to you later," Calleigh said. "Love you."

"Love you too, honey. Bye, now," her mother said, before hanging up the phone.

Calleigh followed suit and sighed heavily. _Now what?_ she thought. "Well, what do you think?" she asked the cat who was trying to climb up onto the couch.

Toast meowed at her and she sighed, lifting him up into her lap. "Right." She stared off into the distance as she pet the cat.

Time passed without her being entirely aware of it. She was lost in thought. Either option seemed to lead to someone being hurt, and she couldn't decide which was the right one.

At some point, when it was early morning, she heard a car pull into the driveway. She blinked as she realized she'd stayed up all night thinking. The front door opened slowly and a groggy seeming Tim walked into the house. He pulled up short as he saw her sitting on the couch.

"Hi," she said, softly.

"I didn't want to miss you," he said. "If you were going to work, I mean."

"Ah," she said. "Come here."

He walked over to the couch and sat down next to her. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"I think so," she said.

"Ok," he said, not seeming to know what to say. She sighed.

"I was scared," she said. "I was scared I'd lose you so I thought maybe I should go so if I had to lose you, at least it was under circumstances I could control."

"I see," he said, slowly.

"But that's…not right, either. I don't know really what the right answer is," she said.

"Does there have to be a right answer?" he asked. "Can't there just be, I don't know, something to start with and go from there?"

She thought for a minute. "I don't know."

"We can work on things, you know. I'm getting really good at working on things," he said, sounding a bit hopeful.

She laughed a little. "Yes, you are." She was quiet again. "My mom said I had to just trust you to take care of yourself. That I can love you, but I shouldn't try to take care of you anymore"

"I can just imagine what you said to that," he said, wryly.

"I was more surprised that you two have been talking to really say anything," she said, with a raised eyebrow.

"You talk to _my_ mom at least once a week," he replied, with an eyebrow raise of his own.

"True," she said. "Anyway, I think she's right. I've been trying to take care of you for so long that I get overwhelmed. And when this happened, all I could think was, oh, no, I can't do this anymore."

"That's understandable," he said. "I really can take care of myself. And if I can't, and if you can't, there's other people who can, you know."

"I know. I keep forgetting that," she said.

"There's not so many people who can love me, though," he pointed out.

"I think you're right. There's not many people who can love you like I do," she admitted.

"So let's do that," he said. "Because I love you and I don't want you to go."

"I love you too, and I don't think I want to go, either," she said.

"So we start with that. That's good enough for a start, isn't it?" he asked. She could see the anxiety and hope in his face. It made her feel better about the decision- he really did want her to stay. It wasn't just her.

"I think that's good enough, yes," she said, reaching out and taking his hand.

"Good," he said, relieved. He smiled tentatively at her, and squeezed her hand.

She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. He turned and kissed the top of her head. "I'm tired."

"Me too," he said. She smiled and turned to lean up to kiss him. "Do you have to go to work?" he asked.

"Nope," she said, in between kisses. "I might go in and get caught up on some stuff later, but I want a nap first."

"A nap," he said, kissing her again. "Is that a suggestion?"

"Yup," she said, standing up and drawing him to his feet. He hugged her tightly. She left her arm around his waist as they headed for the bedroom. _Good enough is a good place to start,_ she thought. _ We don't have to be perfect on the first try, I think._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

* * *

Oh, I'm newly calibrated  
All shiny and clean  
I'm your recent adaptation  
Time to redefine me

Let the word out, I've got to get out  
Oh, I'm feeling better now  
Break the news out, I've got to get out  
Oh, I'm feeling better now

"Better Now", Collective Soul

* * *

Tim sat in his lab right on schedule Monday morning. The whole tight schedule wasn't really anything new to him- he'd been juggling time for months now, with school and work. But having everything written out and his downtime all scheduled was different. He kind of liked it, though. He'd always been happier when there was a routine.

"Hey, look who's back," Kiara said as she and Jack came into the lab. "How're you feeling?"

"Better, thanks," he said. He didn't know how much everyone knew, but better covered most things.

"Good," Jack said, sitting down across from him. "You look better."

"Definitely," Kiara said. Her beeper went off and she sighed. "Gotta love being first call in the morning," she said, glancing at it. "Gotta go find Scotty. See you guys later," she said, leaving the lab.

"See you," Jack said.

Tim nodded and started to turn back to the report he was reading. But something in Jack's face made him stop and look up at the other man. "What?" he asked, curiously.

Jack's face twisted into a weird expression. "This is probably not my place…oh, hell with it," he said, seeming to come to a decision. Tim watched with raised eyebrows as Jack shoved his shirt sleeve up to his elbow and thrust his forearm across the table. There was a thin scar running up the underside of his arm, somewhat faded, but still clear. "I did that," Jack said, quietly, "when I was 19."

Tim blinked at him, not at all sure what to say. Jack nodded, then continued.

"My sister found me. The doctors said it was a dissociative episode, which is psych speak for 'out of his fucking mind'. I was in the hospital for six weeks, in the psych ward. And then I got out, and did the therapy and took the medications and all. And for about a year, everything was fine. So my doctor tried to lower my dosage to get me off the medication, and I crashed and burned. Didn't quite wind up back in the hospital, but it was close. So I went back on the medication and everything was fine. Same thing happened a year later, but this time, my doctor decided it was probably better to just put me back on the meds and leave it that way. And that's just what we did. That was, oh, four years ago, and I've been doing pretty well since. They'll have to pry my meds from my cold dead hands before I'd be willing to give them up again. I don't want to go through that again," Jack said with a smile.

Tim looked at him with surprise. "How did you…"

"No one told me," Jack said, quickly. "Horatio just said you weren't feeling well and so he and Calleigh had traded days off so she could stay with you. It was an easy enough sell, given that you'd looked like hell last week. But, well, you seemed more unconnected than sick. And, well, when you've been there, it's easier to see those sorts of things," he explained.

"Oh," Tim said.

"So, anyway, my point is, it gets better. Even if it means you fall down and have to pick yourself back up," Jack continued. "It gets easier each time, probably because you can tell when things are getting bad, and then you can fix them quicker before they get really bad. Anyway, I know you've got a pretty damn good support system, but I kind of had the feeling that most of the people involved haven't really been there. Not in any sort of serious way, anyway. And I know from experience that sometimes it's easier to have someone in the mix who knows where you're coming from. So I thought I'd speak up," he said.

"Oh," Tim said, again. He was somewhat at a loss for words. "I…no, thank you," he said. "Thank you is what you say here," he mumbled under his breath.

Jack laughed. "It's ok. Depressed people aren't generally the most polite people ever."

"It's just that I forget what I'm supposed to say," Tim said, shaking his head.

"It's ok. I know how it is," Jack said. He pulled a card out of his back pocket and picked up a pen and scrawled something on the back. "Here. I know you've got my cell number, but that's my home number, too. You can call anytime," he said, sliding the card across the table.

"Thank you," Tim said, more surely this time.

"You're welcome," Jack said, with a smile. "I'm glad you're getting back on your feet."

"Me too," Tim said, nodding.

"Anyway, I got stuff to look over from DNA," he said. "I'll let you get back to work. See you later," Jack said, as he stood up to walk out of the lab. "Hey, Calleigh," he said, holding the door for her before he left.

"Hi, Jack," she called after him. "What was that? You two looked really serious in here," she said to Tim.

"We were talking about last week. Well, sort of," he said, frowning. "He was talking. I was listening, I guess."

"I didn't tell anyone, Horatio just said you were sick," she said, quickly.

"No, no, I know. He said. He figured it out, because, well," he said, with a shrug, not wanting to share what Jack had said about himself.

Calleigh caught the inference and nodded. "Ah."

"Yeah," he said. "So, anyway. We were talking."

"Well, good," she said. "At any rate, I just thought I'd pop in and see what you thought of the little agenda item I added to your schedule this evening." She grinned at him,

He smiled back. "I think that could be arranged, yes."

"Good," she said. "Well, if I'm going to have a date tonight with a cute guy and a beach, I'd best be getting back to work." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "See you later, sweetheart."

"See you," he said, grinning at her. He watched her leave the room, feeling lighter than he'd felt in days. _Getting back up is definitely more fun than falling down,_ he thought, _even if it is a whole lot more work._ But the work was turning out to be well worth it, in his eyes. He turned back to the report, still smiling slightly.

End


End file.
